


Let go of what you fear

by Namesonboats (Viken2592)



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And to fuck, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon: Cal Kestis enjoys eating pussy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just want them to be happy, Inappropriate reference to the force, Pretty fluffy for a smutty one shot, Shameless Smut, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viken2592/pseuds/Namesonboats
Summary: Merrin makes her first visit to Cal’s apartment. He has some exciting news. Apparently, so does she.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 97





	Let go of what you fear

Merrin takes a step into Cal’s studio apartment. The hallway is narrow and somber but in the studio, daylight beams through white curtains hanging by large oval windows. She shrugs off her leather jacket; Cal hands her a coat hanger from the steel beams of the hatrack with a clink.

She lifts a finger to the metal of the rack, admiring its welded seams.

“You made this.”

“Yeah.” Cal runs a hand through his hair. “From scrap pieces I found at work.”

“Does Malicos know?”

“Yes,” Cal takes a step inside the one-room of the apartment, heading for the small kitchen area. “He said I can take steel but nothing valuable like copper. Hey - say hi to Beedee.”

A grey cat jumps with a meow from Cal’s bed, hidden behind a white curtain that hangs from a metal cord attached to the roof. Cal squats to scratch the animal behind his ears and asks how his day was. Purring, the cat pushes his head into Cal’s hand.

Merrin has heard of Beedee. Cal often spoke of him during lunch breaks at Malicos’s scrapyard. The way he spoke of the animal as if it was his best friend made her feel reluctant sympathy for him when he was new at work.

When Cal raises to grab at a kettle and fill it with water, Beedee strides over to Merrin with a friendly ‘meow’. She caresses his back and smiles when he immediately flops to his side and rolls over. She’s not stupid enough to pat a cat on its stomach; she learned that lesson back when she still lived outside St. Petersburg. Her babushka, Daka, (who insisted on calling the city Leningrad) often fed stray cats to the chagrin of their neighbors.

That was a long time ago - before the accident where a drunk driver hit and killed her mother and her sisters, the accident that sent her to America and her estranged father who turned out to care about nothing but the bottle. Merrin eventually ran away from him and ended up in a youth penitentiary for delinquent girls.

At least she learned English from that experience. She’s not sure what she’d have done had she not landed the gig at Malicos’ scrapyard, despite her boss’ frequent insinuations about Russian girls and his heavy-lidded eye casts that made her skin crawl. The pay wasn’t great either, but it gave her some stability - until Cal started working there.

She hated him at first, afraid he’d outshine her in everything and take her job from her. She avoided him and treated him cold, until Malicos one day casually mentioned Cal’s back story. Like her, he’s had a rough life. Around the same time she lost her family, he lost his father Jaro in an assault. He later witnessed the murder of his foster father Prauf and decided to leave his small town Bracca to find work in LA.

From that day, she dropped her haughtiness and let down her guard. Slowly, they developed a friendship.

That’s how he’s turned her world upside down. All she used to care about was herself. Now, it’s different.

Merrin raises her gaze to take in the interior of the studio. Cal’s apartment is like him; nice, warm, and simple in the way things or people are that don’t need to prove themselves to others. It is one of those typical studio apartments found in a reconstructed old warehouse with tubular skates running across the roof, but he’s managed to make it cozy. He’s covered the floors by the sofa in a blue mat that contrasts nicely against the various greenery parading in large pots on the floor or hanging from the pipes intersecting the edges of the room.

One of her babushka’s proverbs comes to mind. _It’s not the place that graces the man, but man that graces the place._

She walks over to him by the countertop at his kitchenette and caresses the fuzzy tassels of a potted plant with the tip of her finger.

“You have many plants.”

“Yeah.” Cal smiles and drops several spoons of roughly ground coffee into a glass jar. “I’m thinking I should take up gardening. Did you know Greez likes plants? He’s the one who gave me the Chenille.”

He nods at the plant with the tassels.

Merrin smiles. One of their most frequent customers, Greez Dritus was a short man with large sideburns, a former gambling addict with a fixation for finding new gear for his beloved vintage SG-1 Stinger Mantis. Knowing he enjoyed greenery added to her positive impression of him.

She pinches her minty chewing gum between her fingers and discards the white ball into the garbage can under the zink. A faint scent of citrus rises from the clean surface, mixed with the warm aroma of newly made coffee. She flicks her gaze to a stack of papers on top of the counter and widens her eyes.

“Cal, those are -”

“Applications to the California Institute of Technology. I’ve decided to take your advice. I’m going to take engineering classes.”

He pours coffee into two ceramic mugs and nods at a section of text in the papers.

“That course is held by Cere Junda. She’s part of the Jedi collective of architects and engineers - the ones that won the competition to design and build the Ontotho bridge. I sent her some of my designs and she encouraged me to apply.”

He grins and hands her a cup.

“Do you think I could be a Jedi myself one day?”

Merrin’s overcome by a mix of pride and happiness, laced with a tinge of pain. He was wasting his talent at Malicos’. Even if it meant she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, she wanted something better for him; something like this.

Merrin struggles to find the right expression for her feelings. Being bilingual meant having an extensive vocabulary in both languages and yet curiously find herself to lack words in the most mundane of situations. She’s never been able to drop her Russian accent; the roundness to her vowels and the way her consonants swirl across her tongue as they leave her mouth.

“Yes. I believe in you. You are talented, and you work hard to achieve your ambitions. You have picked yourself up from a difficult situation to find your path forwards.”

He lowers his gaze in bashfulness.

“Thanks, Merrin. That’s a really nice thing to say.”

She lifts her cup to her mouth but halts at the way he stops smiling.

“You should also leave that junkyard. You shouldn’t have to stay one more day with that creep.”

She snorts, a small exhale through her nostrils.

“I mean it,” he says. “Go out and find your place in the world.”

When she doesn’t reply, he leans his rear to the edge of the counter with a pensive expression. Beedee inspects the contents of his food bowl, finds it lacking, and pushes his side against Cal’s legs.

“Can I tell you something silly? I’m not so nervous about taking classes, but - other students. What if no one likes me, huh?”

Cal smiles, but the way he fidgets with the handle of his cup tells her his concern is genuine. 

A word is not a sparrow; she’s learned to not speak at all than to speak frankly but at this moment, the words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them.

“You have nothing to worry about. It’s impossible to know you and not love you.”

His crooked smile dies. The warmth between them falls like a stone through water.

Merrin stops breathing. There it is: her heart on her sleeve. Numb, she releases his gaze and remembers breathing.

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” he asks in a voice so low it's one note from whispering. There is no teasing edge to his words. His question holds nothing but restrained astonishment.

What would she gain by lying? She exhales a silent yes. 

It is true, and it is big. She loves him, and she had lost all hope of loving again. Cal might refuse her; in fact, she expects him to. Although it will hurt, she’s going to be ok. She’ll walk out of this apartment in a moment, knowing she’s capable of love.

Deep in that revelation, she startles from the realization he’s taken a silent step into her space. Blood pulsing in her veins, she lifts her gaze to his.

He’s close enough for her to sense the fresh scent of soap from his body. He lifts a hand and places it on her jaw, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Time comes to a standstill.

“Merrin,” he murmurs, his eyes riveted to her lips, “can I kiss you?”

A thrill rushes through her and lifts the hair on her skin. She nods, dumbfounded, and closes her eyes at the sensation of his face drawing closer and his lips softly pressing against hers.

A part of her is still numb from disbelief. Another part lits up like a sunrise with happiness. Her heart pounds like a hammer against her ribs.

The kiss continues. She lifts her hands to his shoulders and forgets about anything but this moment, her insides melting into honey as their lips prod and taste. Cal angles his head and encourages her to open her mouth. When the tip of his tongue meets hers, she can’t hold back a whimper in want.

“I’ve wanted this from the first time I saw you,” he whispers against her lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think someone like you would be interested in me.”

Her heart sinks at that. They’ve wasted so much time.

“Less talking, more kissing.”

He laughs in an exhale and meets her kiss by sliding his hand to the back of her head. Disgruntled by the way they've forgotten him, Beedee meows by their feet. Cal tells him to go to the sofa. To Merrin’s surprise, the cat obeys and lands on the cushions with an indignant beep. Cal swiftly returns to her mouth and presses her against the counter.

She never wants to let him go. A thrill runs through her when she senses the bulge forming in his jeans. Carefully, she rolls her hips against his and smiles at the moan he lets out in response.

“Merrin,” he says, his breath heavy, “do you want -”

“Yes.”

He smiles at her eagerness and caresses the strands of her hair she always wears combed to the side, the rest fastened in a bun to her head. There’s a softness in his eyes that sends a warm bubble landing in her stomach. Damn him for being tender; she can’t take that right now. She wants them to fuck, yesterday.

Promptly, she grabs at the hem of her black crop top she wears to her red plush leggings; garments chosen to mock the common American prejudice against the tacky style of Russian women. Cal’s eyes spark at the sight of her bralette.

She moans when he slides his hand down her clavicle to cup her breast and lowers his mouth to her neck.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

She frowns at how his compliment makes her eyes sting. What is wrong with her? Others have called her beautiful before but she’s unprepared for how hearing him say it pierces her soul. She has an impulse to push him across the room and onto his bed to smother that feeling, but when he pulls the fabric of her bralette aside and dips his head to catch a nipple in his mouth, she’s unable to move a muscle.

Shit. She could come just from this. She holds his hair and marvels at how a steady pulse rises between her legs. When he lowers his mouth further, getting down on one knee and placing his hands on her hips, she grasps at the lip of the counter not to succumb to her weak knees.

“I could eat you right here,” he says and kisses the juncture between her legs; she gasps. “Can I? Can I taste you?”

He lifts his gaze with an eager gleam in his eyes and a blush to his cheeks.

“Can we move to the bed?” Her voice comes out in a slight shake. “I don’t think my legs can carry me much longer.”

He raises to take her hand and backs to the bed with a look like he’s caught an exquisite bird in his hands. She expects him to kiss her when she lands on top of the cotton bedspread, instead, he pulls her red converse off her feet and carefully hooks his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. She lifts her hips to let him pull them down her legs, shivering from the raw look of want in his eyes.

He places his hands on her thighs and opens them to lowers his mouth to the satin of her underwear. Her head falls back onto the pillow.

“О боже, that feels good.”

She whimpers when he pushes the lace aside and slides the tip of his tongue along her slit in a groan.

“You taste so good.”

She’s lost the ability to form words. Her skin feels like it's on fire, too tight for her body. When he opens her and licks at her clit, she arches her back in a scream.

A thread of panic rises in her. This is going too fast; she’s going to come immediately.

She raises on her elbows and reaches for him.

“As much as I love that, I want you to fuck me.”

He places a kiss on the inside of her thigh that makes her twitch.

“Has anyone told you you’re very impatient?”

“A few times.”

They meet gazes.

“I want to do this. Will you let me?”

After a moment's hesitation, she falls back onto her shoulder blades. With an arm over her eyes, she nods.

Deliberately slow, he pulls the soaked underwear from her hips and down her legs. She’s unsure what she wants most; to smack him or to kiss him. When he slides his lips down along the inside of her thigh, she’s ready to disintegrate into stardust.

He laps at her with careful strokes and fluttery wisps that have her lifting her hips in sharp gasps and low moans. Shifting, he lowers his tongue to her entrance and dips in, only to rise again with a broad stroke. He makes a content sound as if he could do this all day and be happy.

“No,” she says in a voice that trembles, “the other way.”

“So bossy.”

She reaches down and tugs his hair lightly. He smiles and bows his head to let the tip of his tongue dance over her clit, making her writhe in abandonment.

Her thighs start to shake. The sensation coils into a hard knot that breaks; her core melts and a wave of pleasure crashes over her, shaking her in ripples that have her wailing. He continues, riding out the wave until she pulls her hips from him in overstimulation.

He climbs on top to kiss her. Panting, she pulls at his sweater, driven by the need to be skin to skin. He shifts to let her open the buttons of his jeans and push them down his hips. If she didn’t know him better, she’d say he looks decidedly smug. She kisses him, her taste on his mouth, tangy and sweet. When he lowers his hand to her hips, she stops him and clenches her core muscles to turn them around. A spark of delighted surprise lits in his eyes; he scrambles himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard.

She traces a line down his neck to his chest with her lips, relishing in his scent and his salty taste.

“My turn.”

“You don’t have to…”

His words melt into a moan when she licks a long stroke from the base of his cock to the top. Taking him in her mouth, she rolls her tongue along the line of the head and imitates his fluttery movement against the small stretch of skin on its underside before she takes him in as far as she can.

He grasps the bed linen, opening his eyes wide.

“Merrin, I’m not going to last…”

She releases him with a wet sound that makes him gasp.

“Yes, you are.”

She straddles him, rolling her hips to let the tip of his cock slide against her opening.

“Jesus Christ,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Yeah.” He leans to open the small cupboard by his bed. She takes the yellow package from his hand and breaks the seal. Hands placed on her hips, he watches her face in concentrated awe when she rolls the condom onto him and uses her hand to steer him inside. They sigh in sync when she sinks into his lap.

The urgency before melts to a stillness she’s unprepared for, but she lets it happen. Holding on to the headboard, she kisses him, surprised by the tenderness that flows through her guts at the sensation of his hands stroking her back.

Breaking the kiss, she moves her pelvis in a rolling motion. His hands fly to her hips and grasp at her skin enough to leave marks. She continues to ride him, getting lost in the flashes of electricity that soar in her at each downstroke, flashes that build into an increasing pressure. Carefully thrusting back, he raises his hands to her breasts peeking out from her bralette, easing their nodding motion with his palms. She tilts her head back and surrenders to the sensation that builds in her, eyes closed and forehead damp with sweat.

Being this close is all that matters. Coming again is an afterthought, but when the rising sensations reach their crest, she cries out, her body tensed into a bow. He follows suit, planting his head into the crook of her neck and shaking with a strangled groan from the force of his climax. She holds him as the shudders wreck through his body and slumps onto the bed, warm and lax.

She rests in that hazy state of nothingness from coming before she allows her brain to connect small wires of thought.

She just told Cal she loves him. Then they had the best sex of her life.

To her horror, the thought brings tears to her eyes. She turns to lay on her back and twists her bralette to unhook the clasps and throw the garment to the floor. Retorting to humor should veil her emotion.

“Had I known this would happen this morning, I would have worn a sexier bra.”

He looks at her with the opposite of mirth in his eyes.

“Merrin, I didn’t plan for this to happen -”

“I know.”

A soft glint replaces the initial worry in his eyes. He caresses her cheek.

“I’m glad it did.”

The brittle atmosphere returns. A thrill dances down her arms. Stop hiding, her mind screams at her. Let him love you back.

“I am too.”

He pulls her closer and kisses her, slow and luxurious. She never lets anyone snuggle her, but this… With Cal, it’s ok. More than ok; when he presses a kiss to her forehead, it feels right.

From the kitchen counter, Beedee yowls by his bowl. Cal raises his head and laughs.

“I’m just going to give him some more food or he’ll keep making that sound.”

She nods and follows him with her gaze as pulls on his boxer and leaves the bed to serve the cat. Her insides are warm and fuzzy like Beedee’s fur.

Of course, she would fall for a crazy cat man. Or was that an expression for a person who had many cats rather than a person who devotedly loved his cat?

When he returns, she opens her arms and lets him sink onto her body. Laying entangled, they enjoy the silence that’s only broken by the occasional car that drives past and the faint plucking sounds from the pipes by the roof.

Cal lifts her hand and caresses her arm with his fingers. It sends a shiver dancing along her skin.

“Tell me about this.”

He indicates at her tattooed sleeve that starts at her wrist and stops at the elbow. She got the first part of it when she was thirteen; looking back, it was too young, but her father didn’t care.

“It’s a motif from Yalta, a Crimean town on the Black sea. That woman there, with the dog -”

“It’s from _The Lady with the Little Dog_.”

She stares at him

“You’ve read Chekhov?”

“Yes. I like his short stories even more than his plays.”

She shakes her head with a small laugh and cups his face in her hands.

“You’re singeing my circuits, Cal Kestis. In a good way.”

He sinks his head to let her kiss him but soon releases her lips with a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Go to Uni with me. Don’t stay at that dead-end job. I know a lot of great scholarships you can apply for. Tell Malicos he can shove his dirty gig where the sun doesn’t shine - I’ll go with you if you want.”

Merrin lets his request sink in. A familiar tinge of panic spins an acid web in her chest at the thought of trying her wings.

There is much she wanted to do; finishing higher education is one of them. There used to be a time when she believed she could do anything but that died with her mother and her sisters. She’s kept her life on hold for so long.

Laying in that bed enframed by the first person she’s dared to love since that happening, she comes to a decision. She’s done waiting.

“Ok. I want to go with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the game.
> 
> “All she used to care about was herself - now, it’s different” is a paraphrase of a quote by Greez in the game.
> 
> “A word is not a sparrow” is a Russian proverb meaning “what is said can’t be unsaid.”
> 
> О боже - oh, God.
> 
> The Lady with the little dog by Anton Chekhov is a story about impossible love.
> 
> “You’re singeing my circuits” is a quote by C-3PO in Attack of the Clones.
> 
> English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.


End file.
